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“Disease?”
“Cancer research for one, I’d guess.”
Cancer? I see my mom’s name on that piece of paper again. But that makes no sense.
“That’s one thing. They do a whole lot of other things.”
“That sheet looks like a report of some sort. Can you tell what it is?”
“Not yet but see this up here? Looks like it’s a patient number maybe. Give me a few days and I’ll see if I can figure out who it is and if I can access the files.”
“I need to know sooner. Like a couple of hours.”
“I have work. I don’t think I can—”
“Call in sick.” I take my wallet out and slip out the bills that are left over after paying the useless idiot at the hotel. “Call me as soon as you know. Odin has my number. And don’t fucking lose that,” I say, pointing to the charred report. “I want it back.”
“All right, man. No worries.”
I look at Odin who is watching me, still looking pissed off but also concerned. “You call me as soon as he has something. I don’t care what time it is. Understand?”
“Yeah.”
“And not a word to anyone. Not even your sister.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Right.”
“Not a fucking word, clear?” I ask, stepping right up to him. “I don’t want her worrying.”
“Yeah. Fine. Clear. I already called her before I came here so she knows you’re here.”
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Because she’s my sister and you left her on her own when she fucking needed you, asshole,” he says, not backing down. I find I respect him more for it.
Gritting my teeth, I walk out the door.
15
MADELENA
I’m sitting in the dark in the living room watching the dying embers of the fire when I hear the front door finally open, and Santos and Val’s voices as Val tells Santos where I am. Probably also how pissed I am. Two sets of footsteps approach, and I turn to watch Val walk on while Santos, looking a little worse for wear, stops at the arched entrance of the living room. He makes a point of checking his watch as he tosses the suit jacket draped on his arm over the back of the sofa.
“Madelena.”
I get to my feet, drop the throw I’d had on my lap to the floor and go to him. I’m barefoot, so I have to crane my neck to look up at him which is irritating. Setting my hands on his chest, I shove him, managing to nudge one shoulder backward but apart from that not moving him.
“You disappeared! Again!”
He draws a deep breath in. “It couldn’t be helped.”
I snort, then shove at him again. But again, I can’t budge him. I’m so angry, I can’t think straight. My conversation with Camilla, the things she told me about what he did, what those scars are, the thought that she knows that about him, knows more about Alexia than I do… it’s too much. That he’d told her about someone so important to him at all is mind boggling.
Then there’s the fact that for the second time since I’ve known him, he has disappeared when I’ve needed him most—and when he did come back to town from wherever he was, he didn’t come to me. He went to find Rick to solve some new mystery.
